


Untitled (as of yet)

by rosered00



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Not Sure What Kind), AU, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Human Castiel, M/M, Past Lives, Reincarnation, Supernatural (TV) - Freeform, business!dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 08:20:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2501009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosered00/pseuds/rosered00
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A modern soulmate/reincarnation AU in which Dean and Cas "happen across" eachother at a small coffee shop. Angst and the occasional bit of hilarity ensues.</p>
<p>Author's Note: As usual, all feedback and criticism is welcome, given that it's relatively respectful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled (as of yet)

**Author's Note:**

> For kami-del-antro  
> This is my first attempt at writing something which will eventually become rather angsty, so take it all with a grain of salt!

     When Dean Winchester first entered the new coffee shop across from his office, the last thing on his mind was falling in love. Sure, Dean had his share of upsetting and lonely nights wishing that he had someone to curl up next to, but when you had a boss that rode you harder than a jockey at the races, things like love tended to slip to the back of your thoughts during the work day.

     He hadn't really intended to leave the office on break, and to be honest, Dean didn't really know what he was doing in the coffee shop. One minute he had been sitting at his work station at the headquarters of the phone company he worked for and counting the minutes to his lunch, and the next he was following an incomprehensible tug, wandering aimlessly out the front door and across the street in search of a good strong cup of joe. 

     Pulling his phone out of his suit jacket and taking his place at the end of the long line of impatient people, Dean busied himself by tapping out an email in response to a displeased customer. This particular situation had arisen when the client to which Dean was typing had found himself reeled into one of the new and upgraded phone plans, which were, in Dean's and apparently, the client's, opinion, merely a way to skim more money out of the paying customer's wallet.

     Dean sighed to himself when his phone dinged again, mere moments after he had hit the send button on the email he had finished composing. Shaking his head, he scanned quickly over the furious words of the client. There were some days that he really hated working in customer service. It seemed as though all of the issues caused by the big guys upstairs came flowing back to him, making it his job to correct their mistakes and placate their victims.

     Someone nudged Dean from behind as he began yet another attempt to soothe the irritated client, indicating that the line had moved along while Dean had been lost in his short moment of self-pity.

     Now second in line, Dean decided that he ought to pick out some kind of snack to go with his coffee, as his rushed and harried morning routine had once again left him forgetting to bring a lunch to the office. 

     When he was first in line, Dean gave his order and his name to the bored-looking teenager behind the cash register and stepped aside into the group of people milling around and waiting for their coffees. 

     Several moments passed, a few customers snatching up their orders and leaving, before a middle-aged voice called from behind the counter "Order up for Dean, and another for Cas!"

     Moving up to the counter with many "excuse me's" and "thank you's," Dean saw that two cups and a bag, hopefully containing the chocolate chip muffin he had picked out, had been placed on the section of counter next to the "Pick Up" sign. Now normally, being a reasonable and efficient man, Dean Winchester would pay attention to the scribbled markings on the cups and discern which one was his. This time, however, his hand seemed to move well ahead of his brain, grasping the cup nearest him firmly 'round the top. Picking up the small paper bag with his other hand, Dean turned crisply and headed toward the door, noticing in his peripheral vision that the man he presumed was "Cas" had arrived at the counter and taken up the other cup.

     Dean pushed the door open and strode out purposefully, twisting his wrist to check his watch and sighing yet again when he realised that he had little time left in his lunch to actually eat what he'd gotten.

     The street that separated the small corner coffee shop from the large building where Dean worked seemed unusually busy, keeping Dean standing on the corner for what seemed to be an extraordinarily long time. Dean had just pulled out his phone again in order to pass said time when a hand tapped him on the shoulder. Jumping reflexively (Dean had always been a little skittish, he never really knew why), Dean's calloused fingers temporarily last their grip on his phone, causing it to clatter to the pavement. Cursing under his breath, he knelt and reached for it, nearly jumping again when his fingers brushed the hand that had nimbly grasped his phone before he could.

     Standing and dusting off the phone, which was luckily undamaged, the man to whom the hand belonged said in a surprisingly deep voice "Sorry about that." He glanced up at Dean with shocking blue eyes. "I didn't mean to startle you, it's just, I, uh- I think you took my order?" 

     Dean didn't respond immediately, he was worlds away in his own thoughts. There was something familiar about this Cas guy, though Dean couldn't place it for the life of him. He felt like he'd seen the other man before, but distantly, as though in a dream.

     Dean started slightly when Cas cleared his throat, quickly coming back to reality to find the dark-haired man peering quizzically at him, head tilted slightly to one side. 

     "Oh, yeah, right," mumbled Dean shuffling, items around in his hands and holding out Cas' rightful coffee. Cas took it from him carefully, gingerly holding out Dean's own cup.

     Reaching out and taking the cup, Dean nodded and turned away quickly, taking a sip of his coffee. The whole situation was starting to make him rather uncomfortable, really. Cas' hand tapped his shoulder once again, causing Dean to start and burn his tongue a little. Usually, Dean was very forgiving, but having been rattled a little by strange feeling that he had met Cas before, his customer-service based forgiving attitude slipped a little.

     "Dammit, man, would you quit doing that?" he snapped. "You don't just reach out and grab a guy!"

     "I'm sorry," Cas replied steadily, "I simply wished to make sure that you did not leave without this." He held out the phone.

     A small wave of guilt washed over Dean, but he schooled his features into hiding it. He smiled, doing his best to look grateful, and took the phone gently. Their fingertips brushed again, and Dean could have sworn that he felt a little tingle at the contact.

     Shoving the troublesome phone back into his suit jacket, Dean turned and walked briskly across the now-silent street, trying to shake Cas and the strange feeling surrounding him from his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know, it's a slow start, but I promise it'll get moving along.


End file.
